


can't do without

by wonsteapot



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 11:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12816612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonsteapot/pseuds/wonsteapot
Summary: “You don’t talk much, huh?” the boy says, wrinkling his brows and squinting at him. “That’s okay though, I talk a lot.”Wonwoo stares at the unwavering smile on the other boy’s face.“I’m Kwon Soonyoung, by the way,” he says. “We should be friends.”





	can't do without

The sound of the huge grandfather clock is unbearably loud, snugly tucked away in one of the corners of the room. Wonwoo resists the urge to pull at the knot of his tie once again, the blasted thing feeling like a noose around his neck. A quick glance at the time shows the time as quarter past eleven. 

Forty minutes. 

Wonwoo has been stuck in this dusty, stuffy office, which distressingly smelt of dirty socks, for the past _forty minutes_. Stuck with two men, one who is quite ancient and looks almost asleep ( _or dead_ , he thinks grimly), and the other a smartly dressed man wearing a monocle with an impressive moustache, who is scrutinising the portfolio in front of him, occasionally glancing up at Wonwoo, as if to size him up. 

After what feels like another lifetime, Mr Monocle turns his attention fully to Wonwoo. His half-dead colleague jerks back to life with a grunt when a shoulder nudges him. 

“This all looks very impressive,” the younger man says with a curt nod, handing Wonwoo his portfolio. “We’ll get back to you in due time, Mr Jeon.”

Flashing a polite smile, Wonwoo reaches across the mahogany table to shake hands with both men, and then hurries out of the office, passing by shelves and shelves of musty-smelling books, in desperate need of some fresh air. 

He nods at the receptionist before sprinting out of the library entrance. He’s unsuccessfully trying to fish his phone out of his jacket pocket when he hears a familiar voice call out to him.

Soonyoung waves at him. He’s stood by the lake outside the main library building, a hunk of bread in his hand. A fleet of ducks are lined up in front of him. 

Wonwoo feels his frown melt into a wide smile, an instinctive response whenever he’s around his best friend. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, jogging over to Soonyoung, who hands him a piece of bread without being asked. 

“A little birdie told me you had a very important job interview here this morning,” Soonyoung says with a cheeky wink at Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo laughs. “Are you calling me a little birdie?”

“Well, you’re not little or a bird,” Soonyoung muses, looking him up and down carefully. Wonwoo feels himself flush under the appreciative gleam in his friend’s eyes. “Unless you’ve been keeping your transfiguration skills a secret from me.”

Wonwoo playfully shoves Soonyoung, who yelps and nearly falls into the water if not for the firm grip Wonwoo has around his elbow.

“Wonwoo!”

“You were asking for it,” Wonwoo quips. 

Soonyoung pouts, shrugging Wonwoo’s hand away and turning around to walk up the footpath leading to the car park. 

Wonwoo throws the chunk of bread into the water, praying it doesn’t hit any of the ducks, and quickly follows his friend. He catches hold of Soonyoung, hand trailing down his arm to interlock their fingers and squeezing in apology. 

Soonyoung rolls his eyes, but a slight smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “So, how was it?”

“Not great,” Wonwoo sighs, recalling the awkwardness of the interview. “I did a lot of stuttering and I’m pretty sure I repeated the same answer to at least two of the questions they asked.”

Soonyoung snorts. “You never have anything positive to say about your interviews.”

“Well, yeah. If any of them had gone well, I would have a job by now,” Wonwoo mutters darkly. 

Fresh out of university, having graduated with honours in English Literature, Wonwoo had been excited at the prospect of earning a living for himself and proving to his parents that his chosen degree was not as useless as they thought. Eighteen months down the line, with no jobs lined up, and bills and rent piling up, he‘s feeling less excited and a lot more morose about his future. If not for Soonyoung, who’s been more or less paying for his half of the expenses for their shared flat, he would be living with his parents once again, trying to avoid their disappointment at every turn. 

“Oh, come on, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung says softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him in against him. It’s slightly awkward, with Wonwoo having to duck down a little, but he feels a familiar warmth in his chest. “You’ll soon be successful and raking in the cash and own a beach-side bungalow with a yacht. I just know it.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “You’re such an idiot.” Soonyoung huffs, about to start ranting indignantly when Wonwoo stops and hugs him properly. “But I guess I can’t do without you.”

Soonyoung squeezes his arms around Wonwoo’s shoulders, cheeks dusting a pale pink. After a few seconds, he wiggles out of Wonwoo’s arms, groaning, “You’re so cheesy.”

Wonwoo sticks his tongue out at him, making his way over to Soonyoung’s mustard yellow Toyota. It’s an ugly old thing, but it serves its purpose. 

They are almost at their flat when Wonwoo says quietly, “Thanks for coming over today.” And he really does appreciate the gesture, especially when he knows Soonyoung is skipping his morning class and risking getting into trouble with his boss at the dance studio, where he works as an instructor and choreographer. 

Soonyoung smiles, eyes shining brightly.

***

They meet for the first time when Wonwoo is twelve and dreading the transfer to a new school, a year after starting his secondary education. 

The thought of having to make new friends and having to mix in with already formed friendship circles makes him burst into a cold sweat, and he nearly begs his father to turn the car around. A quick look at his father and Wonwoo changes his mind. His father looks tired, dark circles under his eyes in sharp contrast to his pale skin. Wonwoo knows his father is struggling to adapt to his new workplace because he had overheard his parents talking about it in hushed tones when he’d walked past their bedroom two nights ago. So, he keeps quiet. 

When he walks into his assigned class, a few of the students pause in their conversations to shoot curious looks at him. He slouches down, trying to make himself as invisible as possible, and slides into an empty seat at the back of the class. 

No one approaches him, and Wonwoo is almost grateful, but at the same time feels a sense of loneliness amongst the groups of students, laughing and sharing stories of their summer holidays. 

When their teacher rushes into the class, five minutes late, he makes a quick introduction of Wonwoo to the class and that’s that, everyone goes about their day as usual. 

He is munching on his packed lunch by the stairwell leading up to the roof when another student approaches him for the first time. 

“Hi, you’re the new student,” he states, smiling brightly. He has very chubby cheeks and braces snug around his teeth. 

Wonwoo stares at the hand offered to him in silence, unsure of the other student’s intentions. He is pretty sure he is one of the loud, outspoken ones in his class, and as a rule, Wonwoo usually steers clear of the loud ones. 

The other boy shrugs after a period of silent staring, unbothered. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet of skittles. “Want some?”

He sits down next to Wonwoo, uninvited. Alarmed, Wonwoo shakes his head. 

“You don’t talk much, huh?” the other says, wrinkling his brows and squinting at him. “That’s okay though, I talk a lot.”

Wonwoo stares at the unwavering smile on the other boy’s face. 

“I’m Kwon Soonyoung, by the way,” says the boy, offering him the skittles once again. “We should be friends.”

Even though Wonwoo still felt a bit apprehensive, he also feels a sense of relief when Soonyoung slips into the seat next to him the next day and proceeds to introduce his group of friends excitedly to Wonwoo.

***

“Have you seen my black jeans?”

Wonwoo looks up from his Nintendo, pausing the game. “Laundry?” he offers, staring at a harassed-looking Soonyoung. 

“Nope, have looked through it,” Soonyoung says, wrinkling his nose at the memory. “We seriously need to do the laundry soon.”

Unfortunately, neither of them are that keen on any household chores, which means lots of things just pile up in their two-bedroom flat; laundry, dishes, mail, you name it. Most of the time, Junhui ends up cleaning the flat for them whenever he visits, unable to navigate through the battlefield without throwing a hissy fit. 

“Sorry, haven’t seen them,” Wonwoo calls after Soonyoung, who’s now moved on to the kitchen and is rifling through the cabinets as if hoping his jeans would materialise amongst the pots and pans. 

After a lot of banging and clanging, Soonyoung emerges from the kitchen looking crestfallen. “But they’re my lucky jeans,” he moans, clutching his face dramatically. 

Wonwoo perks up at that, once again pausing his game. “Why do you need your _lucky_ jeans?”

“I finally managed to get a date with Yerin,” Soonyoung says, sinking into the couch next to Wonwoo. “You know, the new dance instructor?”

Wonwoo nods. Of course, he knows. Soonyoung has not shut up about her for the past two months. 

“I kind of feel this is off to a bad start now,” Soonyoung complains, moving to lay his head against Wonwoo’s shoulder. “This date is doomed.”

Rolling his eyes, he flicks Soonyoung on his forehead. His friend bats his hand away with a scowl. “You’re being overly dramatic. It’s just a pair of jeans,” Wonwoo remarks, “Yerin agreed to go on a date with you, not your jeans.”

Even as he says it, he feels his insides twist into a knot, resting heavily in his stomach. He’s not sure what it is about Yerin that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, especially since he’s never met her. And from the way Soonyoung talks about her, she is the epitome of perfection. But maybe that’s just it. Perhaps Wonwoo feels unnerved by that perfection. After all, he’s always strived for it, and has always come up short. 

“You don’t get it,” Soonyoung whines. “Those jeans are my lucky jeans for a reason. I look great in them.”

Wonwoo has to agree with that, having helped Soonyoung pick them out when they went shopping a year ago. 

“You look half decent in a lot of other stuff as well,” Wonwoo comments, getting up and dragging Soonyoung with him to his friend’s wardrobe. “Come on, we’ll find a suitable alternative.”

Soonyoung grins widely at him. “Wow, am I going to get _Wonwoo-ed_?”

Wonwoo shoves him, the knot in his stomach feeling heavier by the minute.

***

Puberty was kind to Wonwoo. 

Something that Soonyoung likes to whinge about on a daily basis, cheeks still chubby at fifteen years of age and a scattering of spots almost always marring his round face. 

“It’s just so _unfair_ ,” Soonyoung whines for the _n_ th time, plopping down next to Wonwoo on his bed after spending a good five minutes fussing over a spot that’s just appeared in the middle of his forehead earlier in the week. 

Wonwoo ignores him in favour of working through a complex set of algebraic equations for their Math class, which Soonyoung had discarded after two minutes of frowning at the book, already bored. 

“Wonwoo.”

An insistent finger starts poking him in his side. 

“What?” Wonwoo sighs, eyes still on the book. 

“How’d you get so good looking?” Soonyoung pouts when Wonwoo looks up. “What’s the secret? Did you sacrifice a virgin to the devil or something?”

“Yes,” Wonwoo replies flatly. 

Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Smug bastard.”

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up on this,” Wonwoo says, reaching across to poke his friend in the cheek. He loves his cheeks. “You’re still one of the popular kids at school.”

“With the guys, yeah,” Soonyoung mutters, looking sullen. “All the girls just see me as the class clown. They don’t want to date me, they want to date you.”

Wonwoo shrugs, feeling uncomfortable with the topic for a number of reasons. He doesn’t like the tone of jealousy colouring Soonyoung’s voice, even if he knows Soonyoung doesn’t hold any grudges against him. He’s also not keen on thinking about the number of girls who’ve approached him expressing their interest, all of them who left disappointed when he awkwardly turned them down. 

“Well, I don’t want to date them.”

“Yeah, I know,” Soonyoung says, looking at him curiously. “That’s beside the point. The point is no one wants to date _me_.”

“It’s their loss,” Wonwoo declares, turning back to his book, intent on getting some work done since Soonyoung is over at his house with the excuse of studying together. 

After a few minutes of silence Wonwoo thinks Soonyoung has fallen asleep, so he’s startled when Soonyoung says, out of the blue, “You like Seungcheol hyung, right?”

Wonwoo freezes, a cold panic rushing in and leaving him suddenly on edge. “He’s cool,” he says nonchalantly, hoping Soonyoung would let it go. It’s something Wonwoo has avoided examining too closely, fear gripping his insides every time he gets butterflies around the popular senior, who always grins too widely and ruffles his hair when they cross paths. 

“Yeah, he’s amazing,” Soonyoung agrees readily. “I like him, too. He’s such a good guy and so _so_ hot! If only he wasn’t dating Nayoung noona.”

When Wonwoo looks at Soonyoung, askance, the other boy winks and grins. “Hey, I don’t discriminate. I’m very generous with my affections, you know that,” he exclaims, draping himself over Wonwoo’s back and digging his chin into his shoulder. 

Heart thudding erratically against his rib cage, Wonwoo tries to process Soonyoung’s carefree comments, amazed at how at ease the other boy is with his inclinations. He wonders if Soonyoung’s parents know, whether they had been disappointed, horrified, or whether they’d just accepted it as one of Soonyoung’s many quirks. 

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung murmurs, his breath tickling Wonwoo’s ears. “It’s okay, you know, but I won’t say anything if you’re not okay with it.”

Swallowing heavily, a sense of gratitude and relief nearly choking him, Wonwoo can only squeeze Soonyoung’s hand.

***

It’s dark in the flat, the sun having set hours ago.

Wonwoo’s bundled up under his duvet, eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling. His mind is a jumbled mess, warring between a deep sense of self-loathing and bitterness at the world. A week ago, he had received an email, announcing yet again another failed job application. A week since he barricaded himself in his room, only venturing out when his hunger pangs couldn’t be ignored. 

He hasn’t seen Soonyoung all week, but his friend always lets him know when he’s leaving for work, and knocks on the door to say good night before turning in every night. Takeaway is always left in the fridge, post-its telling him to _finish the food, or else!_ His phone periodically announces the arrival of a text message, but Wonwoo has been ignoring it, intent on shutting out the outside world. 

He feels guilty for avoiding Soonyoung, but he really doesn’t want the other man to see his ugliness at its worst. 

Soonyoung has always understood in the past, and has always given him space when Wonwoo sinks into his dark moods. Although, his post-its have been sounding a bit more frantic over the past two days, possibly because this is the longest Wonwoo has gone without talking to him.

He sinks further into his covers when he hears the faint sounds of the front door opening, the clatter of keys on the dining table, Soonyoung singing to himself as he shuffles around the flat. 

Wonwoo shuts his eyes, trying to drown out the sounds, digging further into the recesses of his brain and wrapping himself firmly in a cloak of misery. 

After what seems like hours, a knock sounds on his door. Wonwoo ignores it, knowing Soonyoung’s softly muttered _Good night, Wonwoo_ , will soon follow. 

But tonight, the knob to his door turns and Soonyoung pads over to his bed quietly. Wonwoo watches him approach, but before he can tell his friend to leave, Soonyoung is lying down beside him, a respectable distance between them. 

“I know you’re mad at me for coming in just like that,” Soonyoung murmurs, “but I won’t be a very good friend if I let you carry on like this for much longer.”

Wonwoo turns away from him, a lump in his throat. 

“Wonwoo,” pleads Soonyoung, voice still hushed. “Please, talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Wonwoo says finally, once the silence between them starts to feel strained. 

Soonyoung huffs quietly behind him. “Avoiding your problems won’t make them go away.”

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Wonwoo retorts a bit too sharply, then immediately regrets it, but he can’t bring himself to apologise. 

Soonyoung falls quiet. Wonwoo shifts around on the bed, keenly aware of his friend’s presence, inches away from him. The other refuses to move, seemingly happy to sleep next to Wonwoo, despite not having explicit permission. When it comes to stubbornness, Soonyoung’s rivals his, and Wonwoo has a sinking feeling that his friend would not leave him alone unless he gives him something. 

“I didn’t get the job,” he mumbles. 

Soonyoung makes a frustrated noise. “That sucks, Wonwoo, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

At that, Soonyoung reaches over and pulls on Wonwoo’s shoulder until he turns around. Wonwoo can only just barely make out his features in the dark, especially without his glasses on, but he can clearly picture the indignant frown on Soonyoung’s face. 

“For crying out– Wonwoo, it’s not pity,” Soonyoung remarks, offended. “Can’t I be supportive of my best friend?” And then mutters quietly, “Even if he’s being a royal douche right now.”

Wonwoo grunts, trying to shrug away from Soonyoung’s firm grip. 

“It’ll happen,” Soonyoung insists, “When the right job comes along, it’ll happen.”

“I’ll take just about any job right now,” Wonwoo grumbles. “I’m sick and tired of slaving away at McD’s.”

“Pays the bill though,” Soonyoung offers tentatively. 

“No, _you_ pay the bills.”

A resigned sigh follows. “Wonwoo–“

“No, Soonyoung, it’s not okay, alright!” Wonwoo snaps, frustration evident in his tone. “I’m a bloody failure mooching off my friend and hiding from my parents because I’m still unemployed and penniless _and_ too much of a coward to come out to them and disappoint them in every way possible. It fucking sucks!”

Soonyoung falls silent once again, but scoots closer this time and wraps his arms around Wonwoo in a warm hug. Wonwoo groans and tries to get away, but Soonyoung only tightens his arms around him. 

“Well, I think you can only see the negatives right now, but let me tell you, Jeon Wonwoo, you are the furthest thing from a failure,” Soonyoung states firmly. “And I’m not changing my mind no matter what you say. So, please, stop dissing my best friend.”

Wonwoo feels hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes, the lump in his throat back in full force, silencing his protests effectively. He shifts closer to the warmth of his friend, burying his face in his shoulder to hide his tears. He feels a hand card through his hair a few times, before patting him gently on the back. 

“Oh Wonwoo, you’re perfect the way you are.”

Wonwoo tries very hard to believe him.

***

Jealousy is an ugly thing. 

It’s also something Wonwoo has experienced during different stages of his life; like the times when his mother had let his brother play in the backyard while he’d been stuck in tuition sessions, the time when Seungcheol had walked down the school halls hand in hand with Nayoung, and all the times when Soonyoung had invited one of the juniors, Seokmin, to their gaming night at university. 

That same ugly feeling is rearing its head now, as he stares at Yerin cooking in their kitchen while Soonyoung fusses around her, making more of a mess than helping. 

Wonwoo struggles to understand it. 

Yerin is perfectly nice and kind to Wonwoo, going out of her way to extend a hand of friendship to him. She’s amazingly pretty, talented and funny, _a killer combo_ , as Soonyoung likes to say proudly whenever he tells people about his girlfriend of two months. 

Wonwoo envies the way his face lights up when he talks about her. He finds himself wishing he had someone equally as special in his life. 

Wonwoo envies how easily Yerin weaves into their lives, forming friendships with all of Soonyoung’s close friends. He envies how comfortable she is around them, when it usually takes him months before he can open up to anyone. 

Wonwoo envies how happy she seems, content with her job, loved by her family and friends, doted on by her boyfriend. 

But mostly, he envies how happy she makes Soonyoung. 

Underneath it all is the paralysing fear of losing Soonyoung, losing his place beside his best friend. He’s afraid of Soonyoung no longer needing him, forgetting him, when he still needs Soonyoung so very much. But Wonwoo makes a conscious effort to bury these doubts, so far back in his mind that he finds himself puzzling over his dislike of Yerin. 

“Would you like to join us, Wonwoo?” Yerin asks when she catches sight of him loitering by the kitchen doorway. 

Soonyoung looks around, face lighting up with a grin. “Wonwoo! You’re back early.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replies, avoiding his eyes, regretting the decision to cancel on his evening plans with Jihoon and Junhui. “I’m not feeling too well, so I think I’ll just head to bed. Sorry, guys, maybe next time.”

He sees the way Yerin hesitates, a flash of hurt dimming her smile before she collects herself and nods. Wonwoo avoids Soonyoung’s gaze and hurries off to his bedroom, already certain of the disapproving frown on his face. This is not the first time he’s turned down offers to spend time with them, and he suspects Yerin’s caught on to him by now.

***

During his freshman year at university, he dates two boys. 

One, a good-looking law student, who he meets during Freshers’ Week. Wonwoo had been cursing out Soonyoung for abandoning him at the club bar to go and flaunt his dance moves when the other boy, Jinwoo, taps him on the shoulder and offers to buy him a drink. Taken aback, Wonwoo agreed, and subsequently ends up agreeing to six more dates. It is his first time dating anyone, after spending most of high school coming to terms with his sexuality, and Soonyoung is relentless with his _supportive teasing_ , as he says, every time Wonwoo returns from a date. 

On their sixth date, Jinwoo smiles sheepishly, and points out to Wonwoo that he has a tendency to talk about Soonyoung a lot. And to be fair to him, Wonwoo had been complaining about Soonyoung’s insufferable teasing just minutes before. Haltingly, Jinwoo asks him if he _likes_ Soonyoung and Wonwoo laughs in his face, which in hindsight was perhaps not the best response. Things get a bit awkward after that, and they mutually decide to call it off. Soonyoung tries to needle the reason for the abrupt end out of Wonwoo on numerous occasions, but Wonwoo shuts him down each time, flushing from embarrassment at the reminder. 

The second boy he dates is Junhui. 

He meets Junhui through Soonyoung, running into him every time he comes over to watch Soonyoung’s dance practice after his classes. They shared the same lame sense of humour, according to Soonyoung, and Wonwoo felt comfortable around him from the beginning. So, when the other boy asks him out for coffee, he says yes. 

But when Junhui kisses him on their second date, Wonwoo feels no butterflies or weak knees, just an odd sense of dissatisfaction. 

Three dates later, Wonwoo decides he prefers Junhui as a friend. Thankfully, the other boy agrees. 

Soonyoung spends the entire night bemoaning Wonwoo’s lack of enthusiasm at fostering a love life. 

Wonwoo tunes him out as usual, attention firmly on his Nintendo.

***

“I’d like to go travelling one day,” Soonyoung announces. 

They’re huddled in sleeping bags under a tent in Soonyoung’s backyard. The rest of their friends left two hours ago after boisterously celebrating Soonyoung’s sixteenth birthday with him that evening. Soonyoung’s still got bits of icing on his ear and Wonwoo reaches over to rub it off, licking at his finger absentmindedly. Soonyoung wrinkles his nose at that. 

“Where do you want to go?” Wonwoo asks, turning on his side to look at the other boy. 

“All around the world,” Soonyoung says, eyes shining with excitement. “I want to eat all kinds of food.”

Wonwoo snickers. “Oh, so you want to go travelling just so you can stuff your face?” He pokes Soonyoung’s cheek a few times, and his friend puffs them out. 

“I’ve heard that food is one of the best ways to experience different cultures.”

“Yes, I said that,” Wonwoo deadpans. 

Soonyoung pokes his tongue out at him. 

“So, will you come with me?” Soonyoung asks, eyes expectant on his face. 

Wonwoo pretends to contemplate over this for a few minutes, very much aware of the other’s waning patience. He grabs Soonyoung’s hand when he reaches over to poke him. 

“Only if you pay for my meals,” he replies, and chuckles when Soonyoung scowls. 

“Oi, what kind of a friend are you?” Soonyoung whines. “And it’s still my birthday, asshole, be nice to me.”

“The best kind.”

Soonyoung cracks a grin when Wonwoo exaggeratedly bats his eyelashes at him.

***

“Do you think perhaps you spend a bit too much time with Soonyoung?”

Wonwoo frowns at Junhui, who’s observing him closely over the rim of his coffee mug. It’s their weekly outing where they update each other about their lives, something Junhui has made mandatory since leaving university. Rather than Soonyoung joining them on these days, Junhui has a separate schedule for catching up with him. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, puzzled. 

Junhui sighs, looking a bit put upon at having to explain himself. “When was the last time you went out on a date?”

Wonwoo is now even more confused. “What does that matter?”

“It matters,” Junhui insists. 

“I don’t know, maybe last year?”

“Why?” Junhui probes, eyes intent on Wonwoo.

“The opportunity hasn’t come up,” Wonwoo replies evenly. 

The other man sighs, rubbing a hand at his temple. “Unbelievable. Just look at you, wasting all that potential away without a second thought.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Talk to me about my love life when you’ve managed to sort yours out,” he gripes, kicking Junhui under the table. The other yelps, aiming a look of betrayal at him. 

“I’m trying,” Junhui pouts. “Jihoon’s just very elusive.”

“But, this is not about me, this is about you and your sad little situation,” Junhui declares, leaning forward and poking Wonwoo on his forehead. Wonwoo slaps his hand away irritably, contemplating calling it a day and going home. 

“When was the last time Soonyoung dated someone?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “How should I know?”

“Well, since you’re his best friend and flatmate _and_ attached at the hip most of the time, shouldn’t you?” Junhui frowns. 

Wonwoo shrugs again, turning his attention back to his Frappuccino. He’s starting to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny, and he can feel the tentative hold on his temper slipping. Whatever Junhui’s trying to say, he knows he wouldn’t like it. 

“Fine, be difficult,” Junhui mutters, starting to look annoyed himself. “As far as I know, he hasn’t dated anyone since things ended with Yerin, and that was _six months_ ago. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“If you are somehow implying that the reason Soonyoung hasn’t dated anyone is because of me –“

“That’s exactly it!” Junhui exclaims, slamming a hand down on the table, nearly tipping over his mug of coffee. A few of the other customers sitting close-by look over warily. “You two are so busy monopolising each other’s time you haven’t found the opportunity to see anyone else.”

“We still see you guys,” Wonwoo says dryly. “Unfortunately.”

Junhui smoothly ignores him. “You might as well be dating each other.”

Wonwoo balks at this, wrong-footed. “We’re not like that!”

His friend gives him a pitying smile, and pats his hand as if to comfort him. “But you kind of are. You should see the way you look at each other,” he says, then suddenly perks up catching sight of someone behind him. “Jihoon, over here!”

Wonwoo feels an immense sense of relief when the conversation deviates as soon as Jihoon sits down with them, but Junhui’s words follow him for the rest of the day.

***

Wonwoo’s immersed in a game of _Overwatch_ when his phone rings. He glances at the lit-up screen. _No caller ID_. After a few seconds of blankly staring at it, he quickly scrambles to answer the call, mind racing. 

Four minutes later, but what feels like four hours to him, he ends the call and dizzily stares at the computer screen, brain still trying to process everything. He can feel a giddy sense of joy bubbling in his chest, and he reaches for his phone again, mindlessly dialling a number.

“Wonwoo?” Soonyoung sounds a bit out of breath when he answers. Wonwoo glances at the clock on his bedroom wall; it’s only five past eleven, which means Soonyoung has probably just finished teaching his first morning dance class. “Are you okay?” 

“I got the job,” Wonwoo tells him, voice strangely calm, at odds with the overwhelming happiness he feels. “The library just called.”

“WHAT?” Soonyoung shouts, and Wonwoo winces away from the phone. “Fucking hell, congratulations!”

Wonwoo grins, listening to his friend excitedly share the news with his work colleagues. A chorus of congratulatory messages chime in the background and Soonyoung laughs happily. 

“Jeez, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo mutters, feeling his cheeks flush. “Try not to announce it to the whole world.”

“But this is such wonderful news!” Soonyoung gushes. “I can’t help it, I’m so proud of you.”

Wonwoo smiles softly, feeling warm. “Thanks, Soonyoungie.” 

Soonyoung laughs again. “We are so celebrating tonight. I’m going to call the guys and I’ll try and get us VIP entry into that new club that opened last month, one of my students is really good friends with an idol who’s good friends with the owner, so I’ll ask –“

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo interrupts him before he could get carried away with his planning, different plans in mind. “Can we just celebrate at home tonight, the both of us?”

“What? No, _come on_ , Wonwoo,” his friend protests, and Wonwoo can almost hear the pout. “This is a special occasion, we need to celebrate properly.”

“And we will,” Wonwoo assures him, “but I just want to chill out at home tonight, maybe watch a movie, have some beers, hang out. I promise I’ll go along with your celebration plans, please.”

Soonyoung grumbles, but eventually agrees. 

Immediately after hanging up the phone, he dials a number he’s been avoiding for many months. He waits, nervously chewing on his lower lip, while the ring tone sounds in his ear. Just as he’s thinking of giving up, the call connects, a familiar voice answering with a polite, “Hello, this is the Jeon residence.”

“Mother, it’s me,” Wonwoo says, preparing himself for a long conversation.

***

Soonyoung comes home early, armed with a six pack of beer and three boxes of fried chicken. He jumps on Wonwoo as soon as the food’s safely on the kitchen counter, wrapping him in a tight hug with a murmur of _I’m so proud of you_. Wonwoo sinks into it, content to spend a few minutes being fawned over by Soonyoung before his friend banishes him to the living room with clear instructions to choose a movie while he sorts out the food. Wonwoo puts on _Home Alone_ , an old-time favourite of theirs, and settles on the couch.

Forty minutes in, the boxes of fried chicken are already demolished and discarded. They’ve moved from the couch to the floor, closer to the television, sharing a can of beer between them. Soonyoung’s laugh tinkles over the sound of the movie as he rolls into Wonwoo, head coming to rest on his shoulder. The amusement is infectious and Wonwoo can feel a wide grin spread across his face. 

He stares at the crown of orange hair, the smooth slope of Soonyoung’s nose, the plumpness of the cheeks he never outgrew, and feels a sudden rush of affection. 

Everything slowly slides into place– 

-the constant warmth he feels in his chest when Soonyoung is around, how the other man fills him with a strong sense of contentment and calms his chaotic thoughts when they get too much for him, the way Soonyoung has always, always supported him and stayed at his side, the bitter pangs of jealousy and fear when Soonyoung strays from his side. 

The conversation he had with Junhui only a few weeks ago resurfaces, and he blinks, amazed at how well he’s fooled himself all these years. 

The two beers he had has also left him feeling a bit reckless, which is probably why he leans down and kisses Soonyoung. 

Wonwoo pulls away after only a few seconds, heart thudding wildly in his chest. The look on Soonyoung’s face is unnervingly hard to decipher, but the slight downturn of his lips has him kicking himself for being so impulsive. Clearing his throat, he shuffles a few centimetres away from his friend, mind already rushing to come up with a good enough excuse for his stupidity. 

“Are you drunk?” Soonyoung asks quietly. 

He’s examining Wonwoo very closely, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. Wonwoo can’t remember the last time he’s looked so serious. He is used to variations of cheerful on Soonyoung, or just plain irritability when he is tired.

“I don’t think so,” replies Wonwoo, eyes turning back to the abandoned movie still playing on the television screen. 

A hand comes up to his cheek and firmly turns his head so that he is facing Soonyoung once again. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I feel a bit buzzed, but not enough to not know what I’m doing,” Wonwoo answers truthfully. 

His friend scrutinises him for a few more minutes while he tries his hardest not to panic. 

Once Soonyoung is satisfied, he shoots him a careful smile, almost bordering on shy. 

“Good,” he murmurs, drawing closer to Wonwoo once again. “You can kiss me again, if you want.”

Wonwoo stares, the words not making a lot of sense in his head, still a bit petrified. On some level, he understands Soonyoung is willing to take this next step in their relationship, and that it’s a long time coming, but another part of him wonders if he is only doing so out of pity. And Wonwoo certainly does not want this to be a one-time thing. He knows he is being greedy, but with Soonyoung he doesn’t know how to be anything else. 

After a few minutes of silent staring, Soonyoung rolls his eyes and mutters, “You _always_ choose the wrong moments to contemplate life and the ways of the universe, honestly.”

It startles Wonwoo enough that he chuckles, relaxing slightly. “Not the universe, but ways to keep kissing you.”

Soonyoung flushes prettily. “So cheesy. Well, best get on with it then, hot stuff.”

Wonwoo huffs out another laugh, then grabs Soonyoung by the neck to draw him closer until his lips ghost over the other’s. Soonyoung lets out a small gasp, but doesn’t make any move to pull away. Gaining a bit of confidence, Wonwoo presses a series of butterfly kisses against Soonyoung’s mouth, moving methodically from the corners of his mouth to his lower lip, nibbling on it until Soonyoung sighs and opens his mouth. Soonyoung grips his shoulders tightly when he licks at the roof of his mouth, pulling him closer until Wonwoo is lying on top of him, arms framing his head on either side. He feels a hitch in his breath when Soonyoung slides his tongue against his, languidly sucking on it for a few breaths, making his toes curl with anticipation. 

He’s not sure how long they stay pressed against each other, minutes ticking away on the clock, exchanging slow kisses until they have to pull away to catch their breath. Soonyoung smiles up at him when he opens his eyes, lips swollen and pink. The blush on his face reaches up to his ears, which are cutely flushed bright red. Impulsively, Wonwoo presses a soft kiss to one ear, and then trails a few kisses down his neck. He latches onto the skin at Soonyoung’s pulse point, eager to leave a mark. 

Now that he’s come to terms with the depth of his feelings for Soonyoung, he can feel his control slipping. 

“Oh, _hell_ ,” Soonyoung moans softly, fingers now tangling in Wonwoo’s hair. “You’re really going to be the death of me.”

Admiring the bruise already forming on Soonyoung’s pale skin, Wonwoo smirks at the dazed expression on his friend’s face. “Little death?”

Soonyoung frowns, confused for a moment. Wonwoo waits until he catches on, then laughs when the other shoves him away with a groan. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Soonyoung says, flustered, hands covering his face. 

Wonwoo pulls one of his hands away, then laces their fingers together, shifting around until he can rest his head against Soonyoung’s shoulder. 

“Is this really okay?”

Soonyoung hums. “What did I say about you thinking too much?” 

Wonwoo bites his lip to stop himself from asking another question, not wanting to pester the other with his insecurities and ruin the moment when Soonyoung is content to cuddle with him on the floor, his fingers slowly combing through Wonwoo’s hair. He manages to stay quiet for a few minutes. 

“What am I to you, Soonyoung?” he asks, and hates how scared he sounds. 

The fingers in his hair still. Wonwoo waits, anxiously playing with the hem of Soonyoung’s shirt.

“An idiot,” Soonyoung says, tugging on his hair playfully. 

When Wonwoo thumps him on the chest, he giggles and turns on his side, a hand reaching up to cradle Wonwoo’s face. The look in his eyes is soft, and fond, and holds so much unbridled affection it takes Wonwoo’s breath away. 

“You’re the person I can’t do without.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I wrote this. I've now realised it's very sappy.


End file.
